


Sunshine

by Anonymous



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Amnesia, Childbirth, F/F, Graphic Birth Scene, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Infanticide, Lactation, Lesbian Sex, Mind Control, POV Lesbian Character, POV Second Person, Present Tense, Rape Aftermath, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, pregnancy resulting from rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7269124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Runner Five might be traumatized, but she's probably not the first person to fall in love with the person helping her give birth in the woods. Once life settles down, she just wants to live happily ever after with her girlfriend, Moonchild, and their newborn. Apparently, that's too much to ask for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, (usually, even!) you love the residents of Abel.

Other times, they’re nosy busybodies who need to shut the fuck up.

“That looks like a painful one,” Sam says. “What does a contraction feel like, anyway? Is it like having diarrhea?”

“Nah, probably more like period cramps,” Jody says. “See how tight her stomach is?”

“Yeah, I do see… Can I feel?” Sam sticks his hands on your round stomach, which is currently spasming painfully. “Wow, I can feel the stretch marks!”

You wouldn’t normally karate chop Sam’s wrist, but you’ve been in labor for twelve hours, and you can’t handle anyone touching you without your permission. Kytan would be proud of your skills, if he weren’t out on a supply run.

“Ow!” Sam glares reproachfully at you, his face resembling a kicked puppy. “What’d you do that for?”

Jody laughs. Paula sighs.

Dr. Lobatse’s presence interrupts the four of you before you can descend into a full-blown squabble.

“How’s it going in here?” she asks, washing her hands.

“Good,” Jody says. “Five is having contractions and hitting Sam for touching her belly.”

Kefilwe dries her hands and dons a single nitrile glove. “No hitting,” she says. “But also no touching anyone without their consent.”

With that, she reaches under the sheet and sticks two fingers inside you. Without your consent. Technically, you probably consented when you grudgingly agreed to go to the infirmary, but you still would prefer a little warning, given your history.

Paula, the only one present who actually knows your history, opens her mouth to speak on your behalf, but then she shuts her mouth and glances from Sam to Jody to you. She can’t say anything without revealing your secret to the others—something she promised not to do. You close your eyes and grit your teeth.

“Does that hurt?” Kefilwe asks in surprise. “You’re not contracting now. You’re finally at three centimeters, by the way. Welcome to active labor.”

You don’t know exactly what that means, but you don’t say anything. Kefilwe tosses the glove in a bin and tucks the sheet underneath your feet again.

“So who’s the father, Five?” Jody asks.

Your answer is the same it’s been all along: a small shake of your head.

“You know we’re probably going to be able to tell soon, right?” Jody asks. “My money’s on Evan.”

“I didn’t think they were that close,” Sam says.

“It was a ruse,” Jody says. “They pretended not to be close to throw us off.”

“Why didn’t Five go with him when he left, then?” Sam asks. “That doesn’t make any sense. No, my money’s on Chris McShell. Two of Abel’s best runners… a mutual respect and attraction… the world’s fastest baby…”

Kefilwe shakes her head. “It’s not polite to speculate like that, especially in front of Five. Some of these theories are so bizarre they border on disrespectful! Last week, I overheard Cameo joking that the father would be Professor Van Ark. Honestly, that’s hardly the sort of thing to joke about…”

You freeze, unable to breathe.

Paula catches your eye and tuts nervously. “That certainly is a disrespectful joke. Van Ark killed Runner Five’s girlfriend. Not to mention his torturing and killing Archie. Or experimenting on Five.”

You try not to wince. Janine and Paula are the only two who know the full extent of Van Ark's experimentation. Unless they’ve told someone, of course. But they both looked so serious in the debriefing that you doubt that. Paula even cried on your behalf. You, on the other hand smiled and nodded your way through the debriefing, giggling occasionally. You’re lucky they both correctly interpreted your reaction as the result of shock and grief.

“As I said, the speculation is getting out of hand,” Kefilwe says. “Paula, will you fetch me when she reaches the transition stage?”

“Of course,” Paula says. “In the meantime, I think Five looks a bit tired. Maybe we should let her rest?”

“Ah, good idea,” Kefilwe says. “Out, you two. Five needs to save her strength.”

“All right.” Jody hugs you. “Bye, Five. Good luck.”

“Good luck,” Sam repeats, hugging you from the other side. “If it’s a boy, name it after me. Actually, you can name it after me if it’s a girl, too. I’m just kidding. But we’re all crossing our fingers for a safe birth.”

When it’s just you and Paula, you both sigh in relief.

“Are you doing all right?” Paula asks.

You shrug.

“I’m so sorry about that,” she says. “Janine and I have been trying to shut down any conversations we overhear. If I’d heard Cameo say that—”

You assure her it's fine. As long as people think Van Ark being the father is laughable, you don’t care.

“I wish there was more I could do for you,” Paula says. “Do you have everything you need?”

Actually, you need your favorite pair of socks, the green and black ones, but you’re not sure where you put them and you’re getting incredibly anxious without your lucky socks and—

“Say no more,” Paula says. “I’ll find them for you. I won’t be more than a few minutes, but call for someone if you need anything while I’m gone.”

As soon as Paula is gone, you sneak out of the bed and pull your running shorts and trainers back on. Luckily, you’re the only patient in the infirmary. You sneak out of the building and make it to the gate just as Moonchild is opening it to head out.

“Hey, it’s Runner Five,” Moonchild greets you. “Are you coming on my supply run? I just need a few things. It’s a good run for a pregnant runner. But are you supposed to be out of Abel? I heard you were taken off the roster last month.”

The gate closes behind you. You mumble something about a recreational run to ease the pre-childbirth jitters.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Moonchild says. “I meant to ask, do you want anything to help take the edge off the labor? I’ve got plenty of natural options. A little _dagga_ to help with the pain and anxiety, you know? Well, either way, don’t worry. I’ll be your running buddy! As long as you don’t mind making a detour to my safehouse.”

Sure, you can jog with Moonchild for a few minutes. And then you’ll claim to need some alone time and sneak off to find a cave, or a tree, or any reasonably zom-free area where you can give birth alone, like an animal. That way, you can drown the baby if it looks too much like Van Ark. And if zoms happen to get you before you can get away, well, shit happens.


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you feeling okay, Runner Five? You don’t look so good.”

You give Moonchild the thumbs up, even as you walk hunched over from a contraction. Your hips are in agony. You scan the area for zoms and then sink down against a tree.

“Are you sure?” Moonchild asks again. She drops to her knees beside you. “Do you want to lie down? You can use my pack like a pillow. There you go.”

The second you lie flat on your back, something snaps, and fluid gushes through your running shorts.

“Oh. Oh, that’s not good,” Moonchild frets. “Man, I think your water just broke! Should we go back to Abel?”

You shake your head vehemently.

“Ah, you don’t feel safe there? Do you need a safe place to hide and give birth? I’ve got a place nearby. I’ve even got some yoga equipment. I’ve got tea and filtered water and… pharmaceuticals, if you catch my meaning. You can hide there as long as you want. Sounds good,  _ ja _ ?”

She offers you her hand. You take it, and she helps you back onto your feet.

~~~

The safehouse definitely beats a cave. As Moonchild leads you down the stairs to the coal cellar, you inhale deeply. It smells like plants, dust, and patchouli.

“I’ll start some tea,” Moonchild says, handing you a towel so you can sink onto the sofa. “You’re in luck. I keep red raspberry leaf tea on hand for my periods.”

Once you have a hot cup of tea warming your hands, Moonchild gets out the yoga equipment. There are two cushy inflated balls to sit on, two mats, and a large foam roller. The foam roller makes you nostalgic for Sara, and you sniffle into your tea.

“Oh no!” Moonchild sits next to you, a cup of ginseng tea in her hands. “Don’t cry, Five! It’s all copacetic. Everything is going to be fine, you know? Women have been having babies for, like, thousands of years in far worse circumstances than this. What can I do to cheer you up? Oh, I have some tinned food somewhere. ”

The two of you split a tin of peaches together. She only eats a few bites before insisting she’s eaten her share.

“You can have the juice, too.” She hands you the tin. “You need the energy more than I do!”

As you finish the peaches, Moonchild pumps the exercise balls up with more air.

“Abel’s a small place,  _ ja _ ? Everyone likes to talk. And a pregnant runner who won’t say whom the father is, well… I think I understand why you left, Five. And I just want you to know that I’d never ask you that. I’m sure you’ve got your reasons for keeping it to yourself. Everyone deserves a little privacy, right? I can tell you’re a very private person. I respect that. Me?” She laughs, plugging the ball. “I wish I were more private. Keeping secrets is hard for me! I just want to tell everyone everything! Some things have to stay secrets, though. For the greater good, or to protect a friend, or something else important. Give this ball a try when you’re ready. Oh, and don’t worry about your clothes. I’ll wash them for you if you want. Nudity is our natural state!”

You drag the towel to the yoga ball. Despite what Moonchild says, you’re still leaking fluid with each contraction. She’s sweet to let you use her safehouse; you don’t want to get birth cooties all over everything.

“You’re silly, Five,” she says. “I can get naked with you, if it makes you more comfortable.”

You stare at her in shock for a moment, and then you laugh. You haven’t known her long, but she constantly surprises you. Even though she’s pretty much the opposite personality of Sara, you find yourself caught off guard by Moonchild just as much as you were by Sara. It makes you want to kiss Moonchild, and that catches you more off guard than anything else. Moonchild slips out of her robes, and you follow suit. It does feel better.

Moonchild turns on a tribal whalesongs CD, and you rock back and forth on your fitness ball. The contractions are stronger and faster than they were in Abel. Each one reminds you of the intense cramping you felt when you were Van Ark’s prisoner, when he tied you down and snaked that tube so deep inside your womb you thought you’d throw up. You accidentally let your mind wander into those memories, and suddenly you’re trembling and hyperventilating.

“Hey, man, you need to calm down.” Moonchild shakes you. “Don’t let it get to you!”

Your sweat has turned cold, making you shiver. Moonchild wraps you in an afghan and moves you and your towel to the sofa.

“Didn't you learn breathing exercises?” she asks.

“No.”

“Meditation techniques? Positions?”

You never learned breathing exercises or prepared for childbirth in any way whatsoever. You actually denied being pregnant, even to yourself, until the other runners held an intervention around six months in for safety reasons. It sounds stupid now that you have no choice, like trying to wing a test that your life depends on.

Moonchild frowns. “So basically your philosophy for this pregnancy is that if you ignore it long enough, it will eventually go away?”

“Yes.”

“I can respect that.” She takes a plastic baggy out of her discarded bra, opens it, and takes out a rolling paper. “Let’s get you calmer,  _ ja _ ? A little something to take the edge off. Don’t worry! It’s perfectly safe to use in labor.”

She lights the joint and takes a drag, then hands it to you. Your fingers are clumsy, and you cough a little on your first inhale, but you figure it out. You emulate her earlier actions: the pinch, the breath hold, the pursed lips on exhaling.

“Feeling better?” she asks.

“I guess.”

You just feel numbed, which is better than hurting, but it also makes you wish you were still in control of your faculties.

“Why don’t I give you a massage?” she purrs. “Not Reiki. Nah, man. This calls for a deep massage with scented oils. Maybe I can hypnotize you to ease the pain, you know? I can even get out the crystals and re-align your chakras. You’re going through this massive change, and I know it would help.”

Reiki, crystals, hypnosis… You think most of it is pretty hokey. But it's also calming. The last time you were this naked and intimate with anyone, you were strapped to Van Ark's table with tubes shoved into places you didn't even know you had. The less medicalized things are right now, the better.

So that’s how you end up naked once again on the exercise ball, Moonchild kneading lavender scented oil into your aching hips while the tribal whalesong CD continues on the CD player. 

“Very good, Five,” Moonchild says in a low, soothing voice. “Happy thoughts! Feel the dopamine flooding your system as you listen to my voice. You're safe here, and no one can harm you. Relax deeper and deeper into your mind. Your muscles are getting limper and limper. Yes, that’s good, Five. You’re releasing all tension from your body. When you feel each surge, you’ll release dopamine automatically. You’ll feel so happy and refreshed with each contraction. This is a happy event. Each surge gets you closer to holding your little baby! Breathe through this surge with me...”

"It’s not a ‘surge!’" you explode. "It’s a goddamn contraction, and there’s nothing happy about any of this, and I don’t care about holding my baby because I haven’t even decided if I'm keeping it or smothering it, because I really should have had an abortion, but I couldn’t get my shit together enough to take care of it in time, so now I'm supposed to have my shit together enough to raise a baby solo in the zombie apocalypse, and it hurts so much I want to jump off a building, and—"

"Whoa, slow down, man." Moonchild perches on the sofa, rubbing the oil into your forearm. “That’s beyond heavy. It sounds like you haven’t been able to talk to anyone about it, either. Do you want to talk about it with me? I can keep a secret, I promise, and I’m a good listener.”

Truthfully, there’s not much to do besides talk. You can only sit in silence listening to whalesongs for so long, and Moonchild is a good listener, better than you expected. She nods at at he right times, only offering mild exclamations of indignity on your behalf. When you tell her about how Sara held your arms, about the tally marks her grip left for weeks, Moonchild gently caresses the spot you point to.

“I knew Professor Van Ark was a jerk, just from hearsay, I mean, but I never imagined he would rape anyone.”

Yes, of course you’re traumatized by the incidents when Van Ark forced himself on you. But you spend just as much time shaking over the memories of things that shouldn’t bother you: metal speculums, long tubes, brutal cramps. Liquid burning through your arms. Needles penetrating your muscles and veins. You shouldn’t feel more violated by the experimentation than the rape, but you do. It's stupid.

“No, it’s not stupid. It makes sense to me. You’re so brave and strong to survive something like that.”

You snort. "I didn’t do anything."

“But it takes a lot of strength to make it through the days after that, doesn’t it? Like, after my dad died, all I wanted to do was sleep all the time. I lost so many days just lying in bed, sleeping and sleeping.”

"Well, I’ve had my share of those days, too."

“But you blew him up didn’t you? Good for you.”

You shrug.

“This can be a positive experience,” Moonchild continues. “Like a long, difficult run, you can take pride in your hard work. And maybe you can even enjoy those happy little endorphins, you know? It’s a hard situation, but you can be happy.”

Another contraction strikes just then, and you start crying. Ugly sobbing, as if you really needed to get any more undignified than you already were. All you want is to be happy, but you’re so miserable you want to die just to end the pain.  Moonchild cries with you.

“I’m sorry you’re in so much pain,” she says. “I can’t bear other people being in pain. Can I try to make it better?”

You shake your head. There’s nothing she could do to make it better.

“But I can! I can’t say more than that, exactly, but I can help. Finish your tea, Five. We'll talk about it later, okay?” She kisses your hand, sending a tiny flutter through you.


End file.
